the_briarwolf_pactfandomcom-20200214-history
RP Stories/The Blessings of Owl
Many years ago, it was decided that my littermates and I were of an age to be taken in hand by our pack and taught the ways of the world. Our Ulfr, Twice Dead, saw great things in my older brother Silverheart and took him personally under his tutelage. My younger sister, Sundancer, was taken by Bites the Tail and they became nigh inseparable. Which left me with the rest of the pack. Oftentimes, I would be left with Thunderborn, who tried to teach by example. However, as wise and capable as he was he was a poor teacher and I found his lessons difficult to understand without asking many questions and he would often become frustrated. Though we respected each other, we were not a fitting match as mentor and pupil. I far preferred my time with mighty Stands Alone, and fancied myself a warrior like him some day (the constant folly of youth). Stands Alone was a kind, wise and patient teacher with lessons to be learned in the most subtle of things and I would always be enriched by my time with him. Sadly, he was also prone to periods of deep depression and our times together were not as numerous or lengthy as I would have wished. I have only recently begun to understand a little of his thoughts and need for silence. Very rarely I would be taught by Mercyclaws, and it always seemed to me that both of us viewed our time together as some form of punishment. He never seemed to like me (nor anyone else, for that matter) and he would only seem to teach me anything after being ordered by Twice Dead. I can’t blame his reluctance, for I enjoyed his company even less. He was a dark and ugly man, and his lessons tended toward the barbaric. This time together was no exception. I had been listening to Silverheart tell Sundancer and I about the glorious and proud lessons that he had learned about Eagle in his wanderings with Twice Dead. The majesty and bright perception of the sky hunter appealed to Silverheart and his enthusiasm was infectious. However, as he told his tale I saw Mercyclaws at the edge of the camp beckoning to me. As a dutiful cub, I went to the shaman as he requested. “Are you carrying a knife?” he asked and I had to admit that I did not. He frowned and said, “Then fetch one now and be swift. We have work to do, pup, and must depart before the sun sets.” I hastened to obey. We left the camp just before nightfall and walked into the dark. The paths we took were initially familiar to me, yet soon I was lost. Mercyclaws would often make sudden and unexpected turns in the dark and soon I was hopelessly lost. He came to a stop and I almost collided with him, so dark was it. “Do you know where we are?” he said. I searched the sky for starmarks, but could see none through the canopy of the trees. “Somewhere south of camp?” “No,” he said. “We are somewhere else entirely. Where north and south have no meaning. Where we are is much different. Stay close by me and don’t become lost. If you lose sight of me you will never be found again, and I won’t even bother trying to seek you out. And at least try to make a little less sound with your feet, oaf!” I took the advice and insult to heart. After a time we found a clearing well lit by the Oathmother, whose presence was the merest blue sliver in the night. The next night She would be gone entirely, ready to be reborn again. Mercyclaws motioned for me to sit and he lit a small fire into which he placed some herbs that I did not recognise. “Your brother Silverheart is being taught the ways of Eagle,” he said. “The sky hunter has much to teach. He dwells far above and sees all. He brings a swift and powerful death to his prey, and the small animals fear his shadow. He is a majestic and honourable spirit, and it is only right that we learn his ways.” He placed more herbs on the fire and they burned an amber glow. “But we are Wolfborn, and it is our duty to walk the between places. If we must learn the ways of the light, we must also learn the ways of the darkness. So if your brother will learn the ways of Eagle, then you must learn the ways of Owl. “But know this; I do not think you are ready to learn this wisdom. And though you are more suited to Owl’s ways than Silverheart and Sundancer, you are still not the kind of man who really should know these lessons. But you are what I have to work with, and so be it. Someone must learn, and it may as well be you.” I was angry with his words, but he outranked me and it was my place to be silent. He saw my fury and gave a bitter smile. “Sharpen your knife,” he said. “And be silent about it.” We sat like this for a time in silence, and even the twigs of the fire refused to crackle (such was the magic of the shaman). Eventually, I saw him raise his head in attention, and I did likewise wondering what he was seeking. I heard the sound of leathery wings and a large bat, the size of a small shield, flew over our fire and disappeared somewhere off to my right. “Let’s go,” said Mercyclaws and he kicked dirt over the fire. As we walked in the direction the bat went, Mercyclaws turned and said, “You have questions, pup. Ask them now, for later we must be silent.” “Where are we going?” I asked. “A spirit journey on behalf of Owl and Oathmother Moon. You will see the end when you do. That is not the question you wanted to ask.” “If we are on a journey for Owl, why did we see a bat and not a child of Owl?” “Ha! Is not the falcon a brother to Eagle? Does not Fox often appear in the guise of a jackal? Do we not learn lessons from Snake in the actions of the terrible river leviathan? So it is with Owl. Owl’s wings are too soft to be heard, so she comes in the guise of her warrior aspect to guide us.” “What does Owl want of us?” He paused for a moment. “Death,” he said. “Death and wisdom. Eagle might have great perception, but Owl has great insight. But it is a dark and dangerous thing, wisdom; never forget that. Now we must be silent.” We had come to a swamp and the sound of insects was almost as overwhelming as the stink of death. Once again, the Oathmother had found us and I could make out the area well enough. Trudging waist-deep through the marsh, Mercyclaws led me toward an ugly and gnarled tree in the middle of the fetid waters. I found a stable footing upon a sunken log (of which there were many) and watched him in silence whilst trying to stop my stomach turning from the stench. Mercyclaws found a rope attached to the tree and hauled a floating log toward us. But as it came closer I saw that it was no log. “Our people are not always welcomed by outsiders,” said Mercyclaws. “And all lone wolves die, and have little honour. Sometimes their crimes warrant severe punishment. Such has happened here.” The log was a raft, formed from two canoes, one upside down atop the other. Holes had been cut for the head, hands and feet and the victim was sealed in. It was hard to tell that this miserable creature was once a man. Mercyclaws went on, as passionless as if he were peeling vegetables. “They have fed him honey and milk over a course of days. This diet opens the bowels and attracts insects. They’ve spread more honey over his eyes, ears and anus. Already, his eyes have been stung out by wasps, his ears invaded by ants. Other things will have crawled inside him to lay their eggs. He is being eaten from the inside out.” I gagged. “Is… is he still alive?” “Of course. This is all part of the punishment. In his delirium and madness he has begged for Owl’s mercy. That is why we are here.” “To ease his suffering?” “To end his suffering.” Mercyclaws looked closely at me. “Do not be mistaken. Owl is rarely merciful, but she is just. She is not helping because he is suffering. She is helping because this man has suffered enough. She could have sent us days ago, but she chose not to.” “So we must kill him, now.” “Not we, pup. My hands will be clean this time. You’re the one who is here to learn. Now unsheathe your knife and lets be done with this business.” So I stabbed the tortured man in the neck, and he gave a shuddering breath. “Gah!” cried my mentor. “An ugly stroke! Can you not even kill a defenceless man cleanly? Give it here!” And he took the knife and severed the arteries expertly. He severed the cord from the tree and made a hole so the vessel could sink. I realised that it was such a vessel like this that I was standing on, and I felt my stomach turn. “Come!” he said, and I followed him. We returned to the camp in silence. None asked us where we went, but I remember Thunderborn being especially kind to me for a time afterwards. I’ve since learned to kill defenceless men much more cleanly.